


Silence

by Dreamicide



Category: Princess Tutu
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-14
Updated: 2013-10-14
Packaged: 2017-12-29 10:45:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1004480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamicide/pseuds/Dreamicide
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is one duck that stays on the lake every winter. — FakirOC, Ahiru</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silence

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a piece of [fanart](http://amako-chan.tumblr.com/post/23453260627/you-cant-hear-me-cry-see-my-dreams-all-die-from) by amako-chan.

If he looked closely enough, Fakir would have been able to see small hexagonal crystallizations of ice, decorating just the very edges of the vast lake. The wind blew from his left and reddened his cheeks, his very breath puffing out in a small white mist.

It was a good day for a walk, despite the cold. The sky cleared up, and the air was fresh. Fakir couldn't exactly explain it, but being at the lake made him feel at peace. It held an atmosphere that lifted any weight from his shoulders—as well as start a twitch in his right hand.

He glanced down. Fakir didn't bring any writing utensils with him—he was just stopping by for a few minutes. But even with just the scenery in front of him, Fakir could feel that inexplicable urge to write. Perhaps he could jot down a few ideas once he made it back to Charon's.

Fakir allowed himself to drink in his surroundings, the silence of the air calming.

"Hey!"

Well, almost silent.

Exhaling through his nose, Fakir turned his head around before blinking owlishly.

A young brunette stood a few feet back, her hands planted on her hips and frowning deeply. "I finally found you." Her eyes softened after the initial outburst, and the scowl melted. "…You were late for practice…again. You know, I thought you were looking  _forward_  to the Fire Festival." With that, she relaxed her arms and idly hugged them around her middle, glancing to the side. The bell of her gray uniform dress bobbed lightly in the wind, causing her to give a small shiver.

Fakir's expression dropped slightly. "…Liese." He straightened himself before making his way over to the girl, looking apologetic. "I was just stopping by before going. I'm not  _that_  late, you worry too easily."

Liese gave a huff, her teeth chattering and knees knocking together. "You are! And it's not the first time, so don't…urgh, nevermind." She threw her glare to look somewhere else—beyond Fakir, over the expanse of water. It momentarily caught her attention. "H-hey, wait a minute…isn't this that place you like to go to a lot? When you want to write?"

Rolling his eyes at her small and shaking form, Fakir shrugged off the blue uniform jacket from his shoulders. "It is, but I'm not writing right now. That's just for when it's warm and I don't have trouble moving—" he gestured to his right hand, "—this." With that, he held out his jacket for her. "Come on, I'll walk you back to the academy. Don't just go without proper clothing the next time you go outside, idiot."

Taking the neck of the jacket in her hands, Liese shot him another huff. "Seriously Fakir, no other boyfriend calls his girl an  _idiot_  all the time." But she still looped her arms into the sleeves and snuggled into the warm jacket nonetheless, blowing hot air into her hands and rubbing them.

Fakir gave her a flat look before reaching out to cover her small hands with his large ones, pulling them up so he could blow on them in turn. "I'll call you an idiot when you're being an idiot."

It was aggravating sometimes, but Liese figured she could argue about it with him another time. Instead, her brown eyes trailed back on over to the lake, gazing while Fakir warmed her hands.

"I bet it's beautiful in the spring time…" she mused. "All of the animals would be awake, with birds and rabbits and ducks and everything."

"There's one duck," Fakir said before giving another breath over her fingers.

It caused Liese to blink. "Huh? Only one duck?"

"One duck that's still here."

One of her eyebrows raised, and she squinted her eyes to get a better look. Sure enough, after a moment she could make out a small shadowed figure over halfway across the lake. "That's so strange," she said. "Why didn't it migrate like all the other birds?"

"No idea," Fakir replied with a sigh, allowing her hands to finally drop and shoving his own in his two pockets. He turned around to glance out over to the familiar duck. "But every year, that one always stays. I've never been able to figure out why."

"Poor thing," Liese commented sadly, "its feet must be practically frozen in that cold water. Maybe it can't fly…"

Fakir shrugged. "Maybe."

A moment later, he wrapped the length of his arm around her back, placing his hand on her waist and guiding her to turn back around. He didn't see the duck's gaze drop to the water. "It's not important, anyway. Hey. You wanted me to come so practice so badly, didn't you? Come on, you can visit the lake when it's spring instead."

Liese made a murmured protest at first, but gave in after a second and leaned her head in on his shoulder as they began to make their way back to the ballet practice building. "Fine, fine…" She grinned up at him. "Let's make sure to get the golden apple this year, all right?"

Fakir tried not to roll his eyes. "If you want to put all your faith for us in a stupid gimmicky toy, then fine."

Clinging to his arm, Liese laughed.

And back over on the lake, the little duck bobbed over the water, her eyes sad and lonely.

Perhaps it was only inevitable that Fakir would move on. No one in Goldkrone remembered her once the story ended, after all. It just took a bit longer for the spell to wash away from him.

He stopped calling her by her name a couple of years ago. He still visited the lake to write, but he no longer treated her like a cherished friend, and more like a normal duck to toss bread crumbs to. Several months later, he stopped coming to the lake every day. He still visited, but they were scarce. Every time she saw him, she would bob up to him from the lake shore and watch him with bright blue eyes, and she could see the confusion in his expression, wondering why such a little duck was so enamored with him. But then he would leave again almost immediately after. Sometimes for weeks at a time.

It wasn't his fault, though. He just forgot.

And so the little duck continued to paddle over the water, the cold wind ruffling her feathers in the way his hands used to.


End file.
